What's Good for the Goose
by calaner
Summary: How Jack met Kerry. We all know it ends okay, so don't get your panties in a bunch. There is some mature, but not explicit, content in some chapters. Now complete.
1. Prologue

Author notes: I'm sorry, I just can't bring myself not to like Kerry. She is pretty, smart and has spunk. No surprise Jack was attracted to her. And it's not her fault that Sam's an idiot.

I love writing Jack. He flows right out of my brain into the keyboard; this should probably worry me. It's harder to write a character we don't know that much about. I will do my best to be true to both of them. For you the reader, I know you already know and love Jack as well, so I won't bore you by writing a ton of character development on him—but some though, through Kerry's eyes. And a bit more of Kerry, both from her own point of view and through Jack's. I think we will end up liking her.

Bear in mind this not an AU story and all good things yada, yada.

Here's my take on the romance that almost was.

ooooo

Agent Kerry Johnson looked up from her reading to acknowledge the single sharp rap on her closed office door.

"Come."

The door opened and her CIA supervisor, Dennis Neal, stuck his head in.

"Is that it?" He nodded at the assignment brief open in front of her.

"Yeah," she responded, although she couldn't help but shake her head to show her disbelief. "Pretty crazy stuff. Are you absolutely sure they're not pulling our legs?"

Dennis came the rest of the way in, closing the door behind him. "I know. Alien symbiotes taking over politicians and military commanders, not to mention the population of a small town. The whole traveling to other planets thing. But the Air Force colonel who briefed me on this was not a man with a sense of humor, so far as I could tell."

"That was Samuels, right?" She double checked the name on the sticky note stuck to the front of the folder. "He's supposed to meet me at the entrance to the base and escort me down to Stargate Command."

"Where you will meet with the facility commander, General O'Neill."

She nodded. "I've never met a general before."

"You may wish you hadn't. According to Samuels, he's a real asshole."

"Colonel Samuels said that? About a superior officer?"

"Not in so many words. He didn't come out and say 'loose cannon' or 'megalomaniac' either, but I got the picture."

"Great. Remind me, how did I get picked for this assignment?"

"I recommended you. I can't think of anyone else who wouldn't be totally freaked out."

"You think I'm not?"

"Come on, you love all that Science Fiction stuff. Tell me you wouldn't want to have been told about all this."

She grinned at him. "You're right. If I found out you had given this to someone else, I would be totally pissed. And if it means getting to see real-life alien stuff, I guess I can put up with dealing with some military jerk."


	2. Chapter 1

I thought that by season eight it was high time Paul Davis got a promotion, so I gave him one. I don't think there is anything in the canon to negate the possibility—let me know if I'm wrong.

ooooo

"Agent Johnson."

Kerry stopped the nervous pacing she had been engaged in and turned to see the air force officer emerging from the elevator. She had had no difficulty getting her car past the front gate, once the guard had found her name on his list and checked her ID, but Colonel Samuels had not been waiting for her at the entrance to the Cheyenne Mountain complex. She presented herself to the airman seated at the check point, and he had made a phone call, but it was not clear to whom. That had been twenty minutes ago.

The man who now stepped toward her was about her own age, and every bit the military officer in his crisp blue slacks and light blue shirt, but he was pleasant looking, nonetheless. His name badge said "Davis".

"Hello," she said uncertainly. "I was supposed to meet Colonel Samuels."

He nodded. "I'm sorry. Colonel Samuels couldn't be here. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Paul Davis. I'll be taking you to meet General O'Neill."

"Oh, did something happen to Colonel Samuels?" She really didn't like surprises, or sudden changes of plan, especially when she was already feeling skittish about the whole situation.

Paul Davis hesitated for a moment. Kerry got the feeling he was considering whether to be diplomatic—apparently he decided against it. "Yes. General O'Neill found out he was coming."

"What? Is there a problem with that? The joint chiefs okayed this meeting."

"Yes," Davis agreed seriously, "and they would have to come escort Samuels personally before the general would let him step foot on this base." At her startled expression, he gave her a slight smile. "Don't worry; you're alright to come down. At least so far."

The trip down required two separate elevator rides, and took them deeper into the bowels of the earth than she had previously imagined possible. Davis was amicable to conversation, answering her questions in a straight forward and unembellished manner, as if he were not talking about some crazy Sci-Fi movie. She was both fascinated and horrified and the man's matter-of-fact demeanor served to make the whole thing surreal.

At the end of the second elevator ride, Davis led her out into a concrete hallway. Color-coded stripes were painted on the floor, but everything else; the walls, the doors, the signage; were all various shades of gray. 'I'd hate to have to spend much time in this place', she thought to herself. She bit down a feeling of claustrophobia, trying not to think about how far underground they were. Every dozen paces or so they passed armed soldiers, "airmen" she reminded herself. Dennis had given her some tips on dealing with the general, including that air force personnel did not appreciate being mistaken for army or worse yet, marines.

Davis stopped in front of one of the non-descript gray doors and knocked.

There was no response. Davis knocked again. After several moments, he turned to her. "Wait here," he said and headed up the corridor continuing in the direction they had come. Thankfully, she was only left there a few minutes before Davis returned with a short, spectacled and balding man who was apparently the general's administrative assistant. He opened the office door and guided her into the office where he indicated she could wait for the general. Both men then left, her guide pausing to politely take his leave, saying it was nice to meet her. She was sorry to see him go, as she had found herself liking him in their short acquaintance, and had hoped he would stay for her meeting with the general—which she was increasingly coming to dread.

Now alone in the office, she took a seat in one of two chairs in front of the large desk. There was a second closed door across from the one she had entered, and a large glass window in the wall opposite the desk, but the shades were drawn, preventing her seeing what was beyond it. There were pictures of fighter jets on the wall, and a couple of personal pictures setting on a bookcase, but she couldn't make them out from where she was seated and she really didn't want the man walking in on her scoping out his office. So, she stayed where she was, clutching her briefcase on her lap.

A half hour later she was starting to get ticked. Actually, more than ticked. She was absolutely certain that making her wait, and for that matter, depriving her of her originally assigned escort, was an intentional attempt to throw her off keel; to gain some sort of tactical advantage. "We're supposed to be on the same side," she said under her breath to the empty room.

Then the door, the one she had not come in by, opened abruptly.

At first she thought the man who entered was an enlisted man, judging by his attire, which were BDUs rather than the dress slacks and shirt she was accustomed to seeing air force officers wearing. But even before she spotted the stars on his lapels, she knew this was the man himself. He was tall and trim, with a full head of military-short silver hair, offset by a tanned complexion. His face had a sharp intelligence to it, she noted, as he paused to scrutinize her. And in that moment, the word that came to her mind was: Dangerous.

Determined to be bold, she stood to greet him. "General O'Neill, I'm Agent Kerry Johnson, CIA."

"I know." He said simply, turning and moving away from her toward his desk just as she extended her hand. She quickly dropped it before he turned around again. He sat down and continued to study her across the desk.

"General, I've been waiting some time…"

"Yeah, sorry about that. You know how it is."

She didn't. "I…We had a meeting scheduled, General."

"Do you need to pee?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said you've been waiting a while. I thought maybe…" He trailed off, but raised his eyebrows, expectant of her response.

Kerry was now entirely unsure what to think of him. Her expectation had certainly been colored by Samuels' account, and by the fact that he would brazenly defy an order from his superiors and deny the junior officer access to the base. 'Loose cannon is right,' she had thought. But despite all that, and the sheer presence he had exuded when he had initially entered the room, she was thinking now that he was a bit…goofy. He was certainly lacking in some basic social skills. Or was this just more tactics to put her off guard?

"I'm fine." She said firmly, determined to gain some control of the situation. "If we could just get started."


	3. Chapter 2

Jack was painfully aware that there was a CIA agent waiting for him in his office. This even without Walter sticking his head around the corner and giving him a pointed look every two minutes.

He wasn't being intentionally rude. Not that he didn't know he was being rude—he just wasn't in the mood to haggle over jurisdiction with some civilian who had no idea what he was dealing with. And even though he was pretty sure it was not the CIA's fault that Samuels, or whoever held his leash, had attempted to use this meeting as an excuse to get his spying, backstabbing ass back into the SGC, it still set him off. Thank god he had actually read that memo.

His only regret was that he wasn't there to see Samuel's face when he arrived, predictably hours before the meeting time, and was denied entrance. Paul Davis was on base, so Jack had ordered him to deliver the message to Samuels and then to take his place in escorting the agent into the base.

Walter could stand it no longer. "Sir, Agent Johnson has been in your office for nearly half an hour now. You do have an appointment." That was Walter for you; obsessed with protocol.

Jack glared at him for a moment, and then sighed.

"Fine."

He could only pretend to be studying the control room monitors for so long. He didn't understand most of what he was looking at and he could tell he was making the techs nervous. If only SG-1 hadn't been off-world, he could have hung out in Daniel's office. Or better yet, made Daniel go deal with the CIA guy.

Resigned, he climbed the stairs to the briefing room, cutting through it to get to his office. Taking a breath, he opened the door.

Kerry Johnson was a she. Damn androgynous name. Or was it? Spelled that way? He wasn't sure. In any case, _this _Kerry was definitely a woman. He paused for a moment, considering her, hoping he didn't actually look surprised as she stood to introduce herself.

Once they were both seated across his desk, he continued to assess her. She was very pretty, even though her pursed expression belied her annoyance. She had amazing hair; thick and curly. And she was pissed at him for making her wait. Crap. He was going to kill Walter. Walter had intentionally not used pronouns.

Regretting now having alienated her by making her wait, (which was stupid, because given the circumstances, what did it matter that she was a woman and not a man? Because, I'm a guy, that's why) Jack settled in and tried to at least appear attentive as Agent Johnson began a very detailed run through of the events which were the topic of their meeting, which was Goa'uld activity on Earth, beginning with Steveston. He had not been around for the Steveston incident. His only knowledge of it was second hand from Carter's and Jonas' account. Agent Johnson, on the other hand, had not only read Carter's report, but also the report produced by the NID. Meaning she knew a lot more about it than he did. Jack did have personal knowldege of the the whole Kinsey thing, but she seemed very well briefed on that as well.

So for the most part, he let her talk, and he did a lot of nodding and looking at her hair while trying not to look like he was looking at her hair. Which worked fine until she started asking questions.

"So what can you tell me about the Goa'uld?"

"Hmm?"

"The Goa'uld. Am I pronouncing that right?" She was saying "Goold."

"Close enough."

"So…"

"What?"

"What can you tell me about them?"

"The Goa'uld?"

"Yes."

"Isn't everything about that in those files of yours?" He asked indicating the several thick file folders she had open, one on her lap, and the others across his desk. She had pretty much taken over his desk—which should have irritated him, but somehow didn't.

"There's quite a bit. But it's all so unbelievable. They take humans as hosts? Have you seen that happen?"

"Oy."

"I'll take that as a 'yes.' The Steveston Gou'ald were not able to control their hosts when they were awake. That's unusual, right?"

Jack nodded and used his hands to emphasis what he was saying. "They usually take immediate and complete control of the host; glowing eyes, cliché bad-guy behavior, tacky wardrobe."

That got a smile from her. He wanted to do that again.

"General, your team, SG-1, was assigned to investigate Steveston, but you weren't involved—it was Major Carter, Jonas Quinn and… Teal'c, the uh, alien."

"Actually, Jonas is an alien, too."

"From another planet, but he is human."

"So they tell me."

"Okay. And you were?"

"Human. Still am." Rats, no smile.

"No, I mean where were you when this all happened?"

"Ah." He did NOT want to go there. "That's classified."

"I have clearance, General."

He didn't say anything further, but neither did she. She just looked at him, waiting. Damn.

"I was ill."

"Ill?"

"Ancient flu. Nasty stuff. Terrible headache."

"Ancient?"

"It's complicated." It wasn't a lie. It just wasn't the whole truth. And he knew she knew he was holding back. She wouldn't be much of a CIA agent if she couldn't see that. But he had no interest in describing his experiences with Baal. He never talked about them with anyone, let alone a stranger.

Thankfully she let it drop. "Well, obviously you're the expert here. But it seems to me that the NID screwed up."

Pretty _and_ smart. "Ya think?"

"Well, they're still not admitting to it. And they're being very close lipped about the possibility that some of the Gou'ald might not have been captured. What do you think?"

"From what Carter told me, it's unlikely. But anything's possible. The thing is, though; if there are snakeheads out there, roaming around Earth, they'll have a hard time lying low. It's just not in their nature."

"Cliché bad-guy behavior, tacky clothes."

"Exactly." More smiling; this was good.

He felt strangely disappointed an hour and a half later when she clicked her pen closed and put it away. "Okay then. I think I have enough for a start." She began to close her files and put them in her briefcase. "You've been very helpful, General."

"My pleasure," he said sincerely. He stood as she stood. "Hey, I am sorry about making you wait. I was expecting…well, I was expecting this whole meeting to be a complete waste of time."

"Oh?"

"But it wasn't. I can see you're smart enough to know what's what. I'll be glad to help you anyway I can."

"I appreciate that." She extended her hand and he shook it over the desk. "It was nice meeting you."

"Likewise."

She turned to go, then stopped. "Don't I have to be escorted, or something? I have no idea how to get out of here."

"Right. Of course. I'll get Walter to show you out." He reached for the intercom button on his phone.

"Wait, before you do that…"

He paused mid-reach, looking back at her and surprised to see that she suddenly looked very nervous. "Yes?"

"I know this is totally crazy, but…would you be interested in having dinner with me?" She finally blurted out.

Holy Buckets!

"I mean unless you're married or seeing someone or something," she continued when he did not respond. Her face was starting to color.

"I'm not," he finally managed to reply.

"You're not married, or you're not interested?"

"Um. I'm not married. Or anything. But, I don't think…I'm flattered, really. It's just that it doesn't seem like it would be a good idea. I mean we're kind of working together here, and it's just not…a good idea. I don't think."

"Oh." She looked very embarrassed. And genuinely disappointed.

"Listen. It's not that I'm not interested. Really. It just wouldn't be…a good idea." He was rambling, he knew. But he hated that she was embarrassed. And completely flabbergasted that she would be interested in him that way. He had been a jerk. Hadn't he?

"It's okay. I'm sorry…"

"No, don't be. Like I said, it just…"

"..wouldn't be a good idea."

"Right."

The silence that ensued was brief but agonizing. Remembering himself, Jack reached for the intercom button again. Thankfully, in Radar O'Reilly fashion, Walter was at the door almost before he let go the button.

"Sir?"

"Walter. Please escort Agent Johnson to the surface."

"Yes, sir." He stepped aside and gestured toward the hall. "Ma'am."

And then she was gone.

Jack dropped heavily back into his chair. What the hell?


	4. Chapter 3

"What the hell was I thinking?" She asked herself as she sped away from the SGC.

Kerry could not pinpoint the exact moment she stopped thinking General Jack O'Neill was an annoying bastard. Nor could she say when she began to believe that he was an incredibly interesting man. She was pretty sure the two moments overlapped.

It had not been easy to get him to talk. He was clearly very knowledgeable, more in a strategic and intuitive sense, than in having a lot of factual details. But, anything she could pull out of him added immensely to the sterile facts presented in her files. He delivered his knowledge with a smattering of self-deprecating humor and incongruent hand gestures. There were a few subjects that really animated him—the former Vice President of the United States being one of them.

Even as she was tapping his knowledge regarding the astounding truths of alien life-forms and space travel, she was also making a study of his personality. It was an automatic reflex arising out her CIA training. She felt she had been right in her initial impression, the man was dangerous. But he had a dogmatic sense of duty and he revealed himself as a man who possessed the courage of his convictions. The quirkiness was an affectation, she decided; a coping mechanism. He was hiding a big part of himself. She suspected he rarely ever truly let anyone in. And all this intrigued her.

In retrospect, she wished she had been as eager to psychoanalyze herself. Then she would have realized that the qualities she had identified in him were apparently the qualities in a man that induced her to turn off her brain. If she had been just a little more introspective, she just might have been able to stop herself from making a complete fool of herself. Oh, and it would have helped if he weren't so damn good looking.

This assignment entailed her remaining in Colorado Springs for several weeks. But she could make a strong argument that there would be value in turning this short term assignment into a permanent point-of-contact between the CIA and the SGC. Dennis had suggested the possibility—an amazing opportunity for her. And now she had blown it. She had come so close to just leaving. A few seconds and she would have been headed up the elevator, free and clear. But no, she had to have a sudden bout of bold stupidity. Or stupid boldness. Whatever!

"I can't believe I threw myself at him like that. Just kill me now." She berated herself all the way back to her extended stay apartment. Once there, she attempted to distract herself from her humiliation. She started by typing up her notes from the meeting. Then she ordered some take out, drinking a glass of wine while she waited for the food, and another with it. By the time she was mid-way through her third glass, she was starting to calm down. "Maybe he'll be cool about it." He hadn't seemed offended or anything; he just seemed surprised, maybe a bit embarrassed. He wouldn't want to make a big deal over this. In fact, she would be surprised if it ever came up again.

Feeling better, she decided to turn in, although it was only just after 8 PM. Between the excitement of the day and the alcohol, she was pretty much done. She changed into her sleepwear and slipped into bed, blissfully tired. Within minutes she was dead to the world. Some time after that, she was roused by the ringing of her cell phone.

ooooo

Kerry Johnson had been gone for more than six hours, but during that time, Jack had thought about little else. He really should have gone home by now, but he was keyed up and couldn't bear the thought of just pacing around his house. Might as well try to get some work done. The file open in front of him was Carter's report on the Ancient's time-travel-enabled space ship, a subject that actually interested him, yet he found that he was re-reading the first paragraph. For the eighth time.

You are pretty pathetic, Jack, if a woman showing a bit of interest in you throws you this off-kilter.

He thought back to that time when Anise had made a play for him. That had been weird. Weird and wrong.

Unlike Anise, Kerry Johnson did not have a snake in her head, at least he felt fairly confident that she did not, but this still seemed weird. Talking to Daniel about Anise had helped him process that whole event. Maybe he should talk to him now. Yes, that was an excellent idea. He would bounce it off Daniel and then he could stop thinking about it.

Carter and Daniel had come back through the gate from their meeting with Teal'c on Dakara a few hours ago. Jack had gone down to the gate room to welcome them back before shooing them off to the infirmary. By now Daniel should have cleared his post-mission physical and would be in his office—unless he had gone home. Not likely. Jack stood and strode out of his office.

"Hey, Jack." Daniel looked up as Jack meandered in, looking as nonchalant as possible.

"Daniel."

"Kind of late for you to be here."

"Oh?" He looked at his watch. "I guess so. Lots of reports to read."

Daniel looked at him quizzically but didn't challenge him. "What's new?"

"Oh, not much. Met with that CIA agent today."

"Right, the thing about Kinsey."

"Not just Kinsey—all on-world Goa'uld activity."

"Really? So how'd it go? Another shrub?"

"No actually. She seems pretty sharp."

"She?"

"Yep."

"So…"

"Funny thing, though."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"She…" The words died in his throat. Daniel waited expectantly. "She was 20 minutes late for our meeting."

"Okay. Funny."

"Yeah. Um… I'll see you later. Briefing tomorrow right? 0800?"

As Jack headed back to his office he contemplated what had just happened. He knew Daniel would find their exchange strange, but hopefully no stranger than a lot of other conversations they had had.

Mid-sentence, Jack had suddenly realized he didn't want Daniel to know about Kerry or that she had asked him out. What confused him was why.

Because I'm not ready to close that door.

When Anise had made her pass, he had not even considered taking her up on it. Even though he was attracted to her. And it wasn't just the snake in the head and the odd timing; it was that his heart was elsewhere. There had been a few women since who showed interest. But the problem was always the same.

So what about now? His heart had not changed. But he had to be realistic. If he just let things continue as they were, he was going to end up spending the rest of his life alone. Okay, that was a bit melodramatic. He wasn't alone. He had good friends—friends who were as close as family.

But he could very well go the rest of his life without getting laid. And that just wasn't acceptable.

When it just looked like it was a matter of waiting; that was one thing. But everything had changed now.

Okay, that was enough of that. He didn't let himself think about that.

The getting laid thing, though. _That_ he could think about. And the idea was very appealing. But it really was probably a bad idea to get involved with Kerry Johnson. They_ were_ going to be working together. But maybe her coming on to him was the wake-up call he needed to do something about his situation.

It wasn't like there weren't other women out there. Yes, lots of fish in the sea. He thought about that for a bit and considered how he might go about catching some of those fish.

A few minutes later he was thinking about Kerry Johnson again. Alright, what about her?

He liked her. She was hot, yes. But he had really liked her. Maybe he didn't _just_ want to get laid.

Stupid, Jack. You're being stupid. He kept telling himself that as he fished out the memo about their meeting from his trash can. He remembered there being a cell phone number on it, in case he needed to reschedule. He checked his watch. 2100 hours. Kind of late, but not that late.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He picked up his phone and dialed.


	5. Chapter 4

"Hello?"

It had taken five rings for the phone to be answered and the voice sounded…groggy? Jack checked his watch again. 2107 hours.

"Uh Hi, Kerry?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"It's Jack O'Neill."

"Jack?"

"General Jack O'Neill. Air force? The SGC?"

"Oh. Oh my god…" there was some commotion on the other end of the line, like she had dropped the phone.

It was several moments, but then she came back on the line. "General. I'm sorry, I…"

"Did I wake you?"

"Um, I… I guess I'm still on Eastern time. You know how it is."

"Sure."

"Is, is there something I can do for you?"

"Well, I need you to know, off the bat: I'm divorced and I haven't dated in like 20 years, and I really have no idea how to…you mentioned something about dinner?"

Silence.

"Miss Johnson?"

"You're asking me out?"

"Well, actually you asked me out. I'm just saying 'yes'."

"But…"

"Please don't tell me you've changed your mind. Because I'm already about to stroke out here."

"I haven't changed my mind. It just that…so you don't think it's an issue; with our working together?"

"Oh, it's an issue. But it's my issue. I'm pretty sure there's no actual rule against an air force officer and a CIA agent seeing each other."

"None that I know of," she agreed.

"It's just that I prefer to keep my private life private."

"So you don't want your people to know who you're dating—that's fine, I can do discrete."

"Great. So, you're still interested?"

"Sure. Absolutely."

"Excellent." Jack blew out a puff of air.

"So when?"

"Have you eaten?"

"What, tonight?"

"I know it's kinda late," Jack began, suddenly realizing how desperate he must seem.

"We can meet tonight, if you want."

"Wha…really?"

"I have eaten, but there's coffee shop next to my hotel. I'm at the Extended Stay near the Academy"

"I can be there in half an hour."

ooooo

"What the hell am I thinking?" Kerry asked herself as she waited nervously in the coffee shop. She had found a table toward the back where she could sit and keep an eye on the door. She wasn't sure which was more disturbing—that she had been muzzy and inarticulate on the phone or the fact that she had actually agreed to meet him that very night. What must he think of her? She wasn't too sure what she thought of herself.

She had dragged herself out of bed into the shower for a quick fresh-up, thrown on jeans and a jade colored v-neck sweater. She was only wearing a touch of make up and she had pulled her hair back in a loose pony tail, letting a few curly tendrils fall around her face. And truth be told, she could still feel the effects of the wine. Well, if he still wanted her after seeing her like this…

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as the door to the shop opened. Her breath caught in her throat. Of course he wouldn't still be in uniform, yet somehow she had not pictured him otherwise. In civilian clothes; loose blue jeans, a black tee shirt under a black leather jacket, he was even better looking than she remembered. "Wow."

He spotted her immediately and came over to the table. "Do you want me to get us some coffee?" he asked, gesturing toward the empty table.

"Sure."

"You look great by the way," he said, making her think he could tell exactly how thrown together she really was.

"You, too."

He gave her a slight smile, like he didn't quite believe her. "Cream, sugar?"

"No, black is fine. Decaf."

"You got it."

Returning with the coffee, he peeled off his jacket before seating himself next to her.

"So."

"So. I don't suppose there's any chance you would believe me if I told you that I don't normally make passes at…professional acquaintances."

Jack made a face. "So which is the issue; the professional part or the acquaintance part?"

"Both, I guess."

"Well we can work on moving past just being acquaintances…"

"But the professional part. If we…date."

"If we date..."

"Can we still keep it professional?"

"We can if we decide to."

She thought about that for a moment. It occurred to her that this man was accustomed to setting aside his personal feelings for the job. Well, that was something they had in common.

"Okay."

"So how long have you been with the CIA?"

As they spoke they began to lean in toward each other, their faces close together, so that they could speak quietly and still hear each other. She told him how she came to be a secret agent, he told her how he came to join the air force. She asked about his marriage. He told her he had been married for ten years, that it had been good, but that it had fallen apart when his young son had died in an accident. This fact wrenched her heart, but she refrained from vocalizing those feelings, thinking he would feel such an expression could only be platitude, coming from a person who was practically a stranger—he seemed relieved when she just set her hand on his forearm and nodded. And then he turned the conversation to lighter subjects, his dry and slightly bizarre sense of humor soon having her giggling. She never giggled.

"Jack, I have a confession to make."

"Oh?"

"When you called tonight, I was asleep."

"I got that—time zone difference."

"That wasn't it. I've been in town for three days."

"So…"

"So, the truth is that a couple hours before you called I had pretty much drank an entire bottle of wine."

"I see." A small smile played on his lips. "So what you're saying is that you're drunk."

"Maybe a little."

Jack leaned back and stretched, looking at his watch. "It's okay. By this time at night, I usually have a bit of a buzz on myself."

"Oh?"

His face turned serious. "Maybe I shouldn't have admitted that."

"Why, are you an alcoholic?"

"No. Are you?"

"No."

"Well good, we have that out of the way."

She smiled as he leaned back toward her.

"So a whole bottle, hmm? You were that devastated that I turned you down?"

"More like I felt like an idiot."

"Sorry."

"Bygones."

She said it as a whisper, leaning in even further—her mouth so close to his that that he almost had to either back away or kiss her. He chose the latter, a brief, gentle brushing of her lips with his. Then he pulled back, an almost shy grin playing on his face.

"What do you see in me?" He asked after a moment.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm older than you."

"I don't care about that. You shouldn't either."

She put her hand on his and fixed his eyes with hers. "Come up to my room, Jack." She couldn't help but grin as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, just a little. When he didn't move or respond for several moments she squeezed his hand. "Jack?"

He blinked and his mouth closed to briefly form a grim line. "No."

"No?"

"Listen," he turned his hand over so that he could hold hers. "Kerry, I like you. A lot. And I really, REALLY want what you're offering. But we haven't known each other even a full day. It would be…I would feel like I was treating you like a one night stand."

"I wouldn't…"

"You may think I'm being old fashioned," he interrupted her, "and maybe I am, but you're going to have to indulge me on this."

"Okay."

"Good. Now, what I would like to do is take you to dinner, like I was supposed to in the first place. Someplace nice."

"I'd like that."

"Good. Tomorrow night?"

"Okay."

"Good. I'll pick you up at seven."

"Okay."

"Okay." He smiled, and then leaned in for another kiss, this one a little longer and a little deeper, but he still broke it off after only a few moments. "That's it then."

A short time later, Kerry was back in her hotel room, alone but only slightly disappointed.


	6. Chapter 5

Jack's heart was beating so fast, he felt like he was about to face down a gaggle of Jaffa on a Gou'ald occupied world, rather than getting ready to go out to dinner. To be truthful, it was not the prospect of dinner that had him keyed up, it was what would very likely, make that almost certainly, happen afterward. Kerry had made it pretty clear what she wanted from him. What she wanted to give to him.

It had taken all his self-control to turn her down the night before. But he wanted to do this right. Whether or not there was any kind of real relationship brewing here, he couldn't know. But he wanted it to at least have a chance. He had made reservations at the nicest Italian restaurant in the Springs. He had dressed in his best black wool slacks and a dark gray silk sweater, topped by his ubiquitous black leather coat. He had even shined his shoes, something a lifetime of military service had conditioned him to avoid, when on his own time. He gave himself one last look over in the mirror—not bad. You are _so_ getting laid tonight, Jack. Ack. The bravado didn't help. He was still nervous.

He headed for the door, pausing at his kitchen table where he had dropped his keys and cell phone. As he picked them up, the phone rang. The screen revealed the caller: Carter.

"O'Neill."

"Sir, its Carter."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"We just got word from Teal'c. They have the intel. We're a go."

"This is that simultaneous surprise attack thing."

"Yes, sir. Daniel and I will accompany Teal'c and Bra'tac in the attack on Amateratsu."

"Your heading out at 1300 hours, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'll be there to see you off."

"Thank you, sir. I'll see you then…"

"Carter?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you okay?"

"Sir. It's fine. There is some risk, but I trust Teal'c's judgment on this."

"No, Carter I mean you. You, personally. You're doing good, right?"

"Yes, sir. I'm great. Why are you asking?"

"Well, I know things are kinda stressful for you right now."

"Sir, if you're concerned that I'm distracted by the wedding…"

"Carter, I wasn't saying anything like that. I was just…checking in. "

"O--kay. Then, like I said, I'm great."

"Good. Good. Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir. Good night."

He closed the phone and took a deep breath. Okay, let's do this.

oooo

When Jack first arrived, Kerry noted that he seemed a bit tense. She found his shyness endearing, recalling his admission as to how long it had been since he had been on a date. She was once again struck by how handsome he was, and was pleased to see the appreciation in his eyes when he first saw her. She knew she looked good in the dark blue silk dress she had chosen, and considering her appearance at their last meeting...well, the contrast had to be pretty favorable.

The meal was perfect. Kerry was enjoying the pasta dish he had recommended, and the wine they shared. And she watched with pleasure as Jack tore into his steak, clearly becoming increasingly comfortable as the evening progressed. She knew that he was nowhere near ready to really share his private self, but that was okay. She was a private person, too. She liked the pace at which their fledgling friendship was progressing. And it wasn't like he wouldn't share anything personal.

"O'Neill. Irish Catholic?"

"Oh yeah."

"Big family?"

"Seven kids."

"That must have been pretty crazy."

"Not for me. I'm the youngest—12 years younger than my next closest sibling."

"Wow, that's quite a spread."

"Yeah, I guess my parents thought they were done. That's the rhythm method for you. " He looked at her hair, no doubt noting its reddish tint. "So Kerry is Irish, right?

She nodded. "My mother's maiden name was O'Sullivan."

"Really?"

"It gets better. My grandmother on my father's side was an O'Neill."

"No. I hope we're not related."

"I'm sure we are, if you go back far enough."

"That's a little creepy. For you, I mean."

He found that he really liked making her laugh. Her green eyes sparkled when she laughed. And he liked that she was both feminine and tough—she had to leave out many of the specifics, but she had some great undercover ops stories.

And she liked sports.

"You were at game six?"

"Field level, inside the first base line. I could see the blood on Curt Schilling's sock."

Jack shook his head, envious. "I haven't been to a game in years. This job doesn't allow time for a lot of outings. I do try to get out see the Blackhawks when they come to Denver."

Kerry crinkled her nose. "Hockey."

"Well, at least you knew it was hockey."

"I've never been to a pro game. I'm sure it's a great sport, it's just I have a hard time following it on TV."

"Well we can fix that. You just need a little instruction in the finer points."

She shrugged. "Okay, I'm game."

He grinned broadly. "Excellent."

oooo

Jack let the door swing shut behind him and stood and watched as Kerry walked part way into the room and turned to face him. He resisted the impulse to lick his lips as he watched her. The furnished studio apartment was spartan, with a small sofa, a desk and a TV grouped in one corner and a kitchenette taking up another. The only thing large was the queen-sized bed, which dominated the room physically, and which at the moment, for Jack, seemed like the center of the universe.

"So, Jack." She said, her voice low. "I suppose you know why I've been so anxious to get you alone."

He fought the urge to grin like an idiot. "Oh, I think I have some idea."

"I just can't wait for you to tell me more about the Stargate."

"Wha…the Stargate?"

She nodded vigorously, her eyes bright. "I know we talked in your office yesterday, but that was about aliens here on Earth. I want to hear about other planets. You must have such exciting stories."

"I…you want to talk about other planets?" Somewhere in the back of his brain, a little voice told him she must be kidding, but her face gave no hint of it and he was just insecure enough to think she might not be.

"Please. It's just so unbelievable."

"Um…"

Her look of rapt attention began to morph…into a grin, then into all-out laughter. "Oh god, Jack! You should see the look on your face. It's priceless."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," she was wiping tears out of her eyes as she moved toward him. "I just couldn't help it." And then she was inside his space, her hands on his chest. He could feel her nails lightly raking against his skin through his sweater. "You've been working so hard to be such a gentleman tonight." Now her lips were brushing against his neck. He swore he could feel his brain spinning around in his skull as he tried to process what had just happened.

"Kerry," he rasped. "I'm an old man with a weak heart. You shouldn't play with me like that."

"Would you stop with the old man crap. You're not old. You're…gorgeous." Now she was nipping at his jaw, her hands traveling around his ribcage to his back. He finally had the wherewithal to respond, bringing his hands up to her waist and pulling her to him. He bent his neck to bury his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. He nudged her ear. "You are _so_ going to pay for that," he whispered.

Her response was to turn her face upward and press her mouth to his. He kissed her deeply, pulling her tighter against him, unconcerned that his arousal was becoming more than evident. One of her hands had found its way under the hem of his sweater, her fingers playing in the hollow at the base of his spine. Her other hand was on his ass, feeling him through his slacks. He took his cue, and began to let his own hands roam over the silky fabric of her dress. She moaned softly when he brushed against the underside of her breast. He moved his lips from hers and began kissing down the length of her neck, down to her collarbone.

"Will you make love to me tonight, Jack?"

He straightened and looked into her now dark eyes. "I have to." He responded earnestly. "Unless you tell me no," he amended.

She laughed melodically. "Now why on earth would I do that?"

It was all the encouragement he needed. He bent and swept her up and carried her to the bed.


	7. Chapter 6

Note: This and future chapters contains mature, although not explicit, content.

oooo

Kerry checked her directions again and made a right turn onto the quiet residential street. She spotted Jack's truck parked in front of the brown ranch style house at the end of the cul-de-sac. Tall trees framed the house on three sides, and the sun was just setting behind them casting long shadows into the street.

She pulled into the driveway behind the F-350, thinking with amusement how much the behemoth reflected Jack's personality. Fortunately, it turned out he did not own it to compensate for any physical inadequacy—she felt her face warm at that thought—he just liked big machines with big engines. She bet he liked big guns and powerful explosives as well.

The door opened a few moments after her knock, and Jack, dressed in jeans and a fleece pullover, greeted her with a "hey" and a brief kiss before ushering her into his home. She immediately tasted and smelled the whiskey on his breath. The bottle, three quarters full, sat on his coffee table next to a lowball glass containing an ounce or so of the amber liquid.

"You want a beer?" He called from the kitchen. "I thought we could order some Thai."

"Sounds good," she replied, taking a seat on his sofa, next to where he had apparently been sitting. He came in with two beers and a takeout menu and sat down next to her. He took up his glass and sipped it while she perused the menu.

Once the order was phoned in, she leaned back and rested her head against his shoulder. He had finished his scotch and switched to beer.

"So, how did SG-1's mission go?" She asked, wanting to make conversation. He had not provided much detail, but had told her he was seeing the team off the afternoon after their dinner date. He was going to stay on base until their return but expected them back in time for him to meet up with Kerry for dinner this evening.

When Jack did not respond, she looked up at him and saw that he was staring straight ahead, his jaw working. "Jack?"

He didn't look at her. "We lost Daniel."

"What?" She sat forward and turned so she could look into his face. He was still focused on an empty spot somewhere in the space in front of him. "Lost? What do you mean? Was he killed?"

He shook his head, "Taken."

"Taken?"

He finally shifted his eyes so that he was looking at her. "It's complicated. He may…he's probably still alive. They want what's in his head."

"The Goua'ld?"

"No. Kerry, I can't really talk about this. You're not cleared."

She was cleared for any intel relevant to the Goua'ld. This was some other enemy? Jack was pouring himself another glass of scotch. At least now she understood why he was hitting the bottle so hard. Jack had told her about SG-1. HIS team. And he had spoken about each of them—Sam Carter, Teal'c, Daniel Jackson, with deep affection, even admiration.

The food came. They ate in near silence. It was obvious that Jack did not want to talk, despite how heavily the loss of his friend clearly was weighing on him. He drank another beer with his meal, and then poured yet another scotch. The man could hold his liquor, she gave him that—he barely showed any affect of it.

"TV?" he asked, reaching for the remote and turning on the set before she could reply.

"Okay."

She watched him flip through the channels for a full five minutes before she reached across him and took the remote from his hand. He turned to look at her. She could see anger flare behind his eyes before he suppressed it and his face became impassive again. Even boozed to the gills, his self-control was remarkable.

"Jack. Do you want me to go? Do you want to be alone?"

At her questions, he seemed surprised and then remorseful. He was silent for several moments; she could see he was conflicted.

"Kerry. I'm sorry…I'm not good at talking about…feelings."

"You don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to. I just want to know if you want me here tonight. If you want to be alone…"

"I want you to stay." His eyes were alive for the first time that evening.

"Okay." She handed the remote back to him. She leaned back on the sofa again and rested her hand on his knee. He leaned back as well, draping an arm over her shoulders and pulling her to him so her head rested against his chest. He flipped through the channels for a few more minutes before settling on a replay of a college basketball game.

Some time later, Kerry began to feel that he was no longer watching TV. She looked up at him and was taken aback by the intensity with which he as was looking at her.

"Turn it off," she said and he complied. She stood, taking his hand and pulling him up. He complied again, finally betraying the degree of his inebriation: he was just a bit unsteady on his feet. She guided him out of the living room and down the hall, letting him take the lead to move them to his bedroom. He stood passively as she stripped off his pullover and jeans, leaving him in his tee shirt and boxers. She pulled down the bedclothes before sitting him down on the bed. He took her hand tightly as she began to step away.

"It's okay, I'm staying." He nodded and lay back in the bed. She used the bathroom then switched off the lights before shedding her own clothes. Wearing only her panties she climbed into bed with him, snuggling up to him. She pretty much expected him to just pass out, but he surprised her, turning toward her and pulling her to him. He captured her mouth in a deep and passionate kiss.

Two nights ago he had been a tender and skilled lover. Tonight he was maladroit, a bit of awkward groping serving as foreplay before he climbed clumsily onto her and abruptly entered her. But from the manner that he clung almost desperately to her during and after, she felt that his behavior was caused not so much by the alcohol as from some overwhelming desolation. She also sensed that it was not just about Daniel; it was not at all certain that the man was permanently lost, but the stress of the situation had surfaced in Jack a deep and enduring anguish. She knew that Jack might never talk about the darkness within him, but Kerry was deeply affected that he would share it with her in this way. She held him tightly, whispering his name as he labored toward his release and soothing him once he had, gently stroking through the short cropped hair at his temple and the nape of his neck, until he rolled away and fell into a deep sleep.


	8. Chapter 7

Jack awoke to sunlight reflecting off dark auburn curly hair—and a jackhammer trying to pound its way out of his scull. He surveyed the peaceful face of the woman sleeping next to him. The headache he could deal with, but Kerry…Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

He was careful to keep his breathing even, not wanting to wake her, knowing when she did waken, she would realize what a huge mistake she had made coming anywhere near him and that would be that. He should have sent her home last night when she had offered to go. Why hadn't he? He had traded a possible real, long-term relationship with this great woman for one night of what? Catharsis? Comfort? She had given him both, willingly, but surely she would not want to stay with such a pathetic and selfish bastard as he had revealed himself to be. And it had only taken him three dates to reveal it. Daniel's timing always was crap.

Charity case. That's what he was. And in exchange for her generosity he had given her what had to have been the worst sexual experience of her life. A fifteen-year-old boy would have been more considerate of her needs. Please God, let her at least let him make up for that before she walked out for good.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice she had opened her eyes until he felt warm fingers tangling with his. He looked at her, startled. She smiled gently at him and lifted her free hand to smooth his brow.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Kerry, I…"

"Stop. I don't want to hear it. You don't have anything to be sorry for." She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "To the contrary."

"What?"

"Jack, you shared something with me last night. Something real. That can't have been easy for you."

He considered her words. "Well, half a bottle of scotch made it a lot easier."

She laughed. Then sobered. "Your head must be awful. Can I get you something?" She started to get up. "I'll get you some water and aspirin."

He stopped her with a firm grip. "Kerry, don't…mother me. It's okay. I have to pee anyway." He pushed himself up with a barely suppressed groan.

Alone in the bathroom, he took care of business and then took four Tylenol tablets from the bottle in his medicine cabinet. Closing the cabinet door, he stopped to scrutinize his face in the mirror. He looked as bad as he felt. Having swallowed the pills with a swig of water directly from the spigot, he leaned back against the bathroom door and closed his eyes. If he waited long enough, Kerry would come to her senses and slip out.

Then he remembered the awful sex thing. Okay, maybe this was just about his male pride, but, well…it was still the right thing to do. He opened the door. The bed was empty. Her clothes, which had been on the floor at the foot of the bed, were gone. He let out a long breath. Then he heard the clink of dishware from his kitchen.

"I'm making coffee," she said when he joined her. The gurgling coffee machine belied the obviousness of her statement. "I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine."

"Jack."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not trying to insinuate myself into your life. If you need to be alone.."

"If you want to go…"

"No. I don't _want_ to go. But I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing either. Just…"

"What?"

"Just do me a favor and don't be embarrassed about what happened last night. Cut yourself a little slack."

Jack stood there studying her for several moments. She was giving him an out. He could send her away and she would understand. Which was why he didn't want her to go.

"I'm not very good at that—the cutting myself slack thing. But I want you to stay. I can't imagine why you would want to, but I want you to."

Her smile was genuine. "Good. So do you have _any _food? Other than left over take-out?"

He winced. "There are some English muffins in the freezer."

She raised an eyebrow. She had obviously already done a full reconnaissance of his kitchen.

"The one in my garage."

"Perfect. Can you go get them?"

When he returned he found she had located a stick of butter and a jar of jam in the fridge. They shared a breakfast of toasted muffins and coffee standing at his kitchen counter.

"You have to go into the SGC today?"

He glanced at the clock. "I should be there already. I'm surprised Walter hasn't called."

"Can we get together later?"

"Of course."

"So you need to get going."

"In a bit." He set down his mug and moved to her, tilting his head down to nuzzle against her ear. He nipped at her jaw as she brought her hands up to his chest.

"Mmm, Jack. Do you really have time for this?"

"Come on." He took her hand and led her back to the bedroom. She let him pull off her jeans and her sweater and push her back onto the bed. She scooted back toward the headboard as he crawled up her body. "I don't have a lot of time, but I owe you something."

"Jack, you don't have to…" He interrupted her with a kiss. "Shhh, just relax." He began to kiss his way down her body, encouraged by her gentle moans as he found her more sensitive spots. He could tell the moment when she realized what he intended to do, because her muscles tensed and he thought she was going to object again. But she didn't. Instead she took a deep breath and relaxed, bringing her hands to his head and scratching his scalp gently with her nails. God, he loved that. He was a little concerned at first that he had not given her time to become sufficiently aroused, but found that she was more than responsive to his touch; his fingers and his mouth.

Just a short time later, Jack's male ego soothed, Kerry smiled at him with drowsy eyes as he moved back up and kissed her chastely on the cheek.

"You're amazing, Jack."

"Yeah. You weren't thinking that last night."

"Actually, I was pretty impressed you could even get it up."

"Yes, well." He let a small smirk play across his face. "Okay, now I really do need to go. You can stay if you want, take a nap if you need to." Big smirk.

After a military-style two minute shower he was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on his boots. Kerry watched him from where she had ensconced herself under the covers.

"I'll lock up for you."

"Oh, yeah. That might be a good idea," he replied absently. He was thinking about what he needed to do once he got to the base. Meetings mostly; with Carter, and Jake and T and Bra'tac. All about what to do about the Replicators.

"Jack."

"Hmm."

"You're already back to work, aren't you?"

"What?"

"It's okay. Go. Give me a call about tonight, okay?"

"Kay." He stood and started toward the door, then stopped. He turned and came back to the bed and kissed her.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "I'll call you."


	9. Chapter 8

Jack didn't call.

It was Sunday—she hadn't even thought about what day it was when Jack had left that morning, the very fact that he had to go in indicating that something big must be afoot; out there somewhere in the galaxy. Some other enemy, she thought, and wondered if she should be frightened. When they started to evacuate the city at 4:30 that afternoon, she figured she had her answer.

She tried calling D.C, but know one she could get hold knew anything, although one friend in the Pentagon did confirm that there was a flurry of activity there over something.

She threw a few things into a carry-on bag and headed out, grateful she had filled the gas tank earlier in the day, mostly because she had been looking for things to do until she heard from Jack. Getting out of the city was not an easy proposition. Her first thought was to go to the SGC, but she was told that military personnel were pouring out of there, being evacuated themselves, and she could not get near it, CIA credentials not withstanding. The local airport was out of the question. Her next thought was to head up to Denver, but it was not clear if Denver would also be evacuated; in any case, it seemed everyone else had the same idea because Interstate 25 was a parking lot. As soon as she saw the traffic, she turned back and got onto I-70 headed east, shooting for Kansas City. From there hopefully she could catch a plane to D.C.

She was only 40 miles out when her cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Kerry."

"Jack! Thank god. Are you alright?"

"Yes, actually. Kind of dicey there for a bit, but I'm fine. We're all fine."

"Where are you?"

"Still in the mountain. You know, getting the Pentagon to drop a nuke is a ton of paper work—even when you don't actually do it."

"You're joking, right?"

"Where are you?"

"About half way to the Kansas state line."

"Well, turn around and come back."

"Really?"

"Really. I'll get everything cleared up here and come over to your place, okay?"

"Okay."

It took her no time to get back into the city, seeing as all the traffic was still headed out. At the city limit, she did get stopped by a highway patrolman who was not going to let her continue. She was about to play the CIA card when he got the call on his radio that the evacuation had been called off.

She got home and put together some pasta and a salad, assuming that Jack had likely not eaten since breakfast, and waited.

She had fallen asleep on the sofa when there was finally a knock on the door. She roused herself, checking her watch; 1:10 AM, nearly five hours since he had called her. When she opened the door to him she was taken aback by how exhausted he looked. Obviously it had been a long, long day, and it probably didn't help that he had started the day hung over.

"_Ton_ of paperwork," he said.

She took his hand and pulled him inside.

oooo

He slept for 11 hours.

Although he had said yes to food, he was asleep by the time she came back with a plate for him. She set the meal aside and pulled his feet up onto the bed, glad he had sat down there rather than on the sofa. He was way too tall to sleep on that, and obviously too big for her to move him. She removed his shoes and socks and covered him with the comforter.

The next morning Kerry let him sleep while she worked on her laptop at her desk. He even slept through an hour long phone call she had with her boss. Dennis was able to confirm that a B-52 bomber had scrambled from Minot Air Force Base the prior afternoon, purportedly loaded with two B83 "bunker busters." Jack had not been kidding about the nuke.

She was heating up some of the left over pasta for lunch, intending to wake him, when she realized he was already awake. The bed in her small studio apartment stood across the kitchenette, and she could see that his eyes were open and he was watching her. When he caught her eye, he frowned. "I thought you were going to give me something to eat?"

"I was, but you passed out."

"Well, I'm starving. In fact, I think I might actually be dead from starvation in the next few minutes."

"Melodrama."

Jack started to make choking sounds, clutching his chest. "Food" He gasped.

Kerry laughed at his theatrics. "Okay, okay. Hold on."

She brought the plate to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He opened his mouth wide, like a baby bird.

"Oh, I am so not feeding you. Come on, sit up."

He complied, sulking. Then he took the plate and fork from her and began to take huge bites, chewing noisily.

"Okay, that's disgusting." She crinkled her nose in mock aversion. "Don't get sauce all over my sheets."

"Why not? Your going to have to change them anyway. In an hour or so." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, like you're getting any. You might want to work on your manners, swine."

He smirked at her around a forkful of penne. "Oh, there_ will_ be squealing."

"God." She could no longer keep a straight face. "You're terrible"

"Yes, well. I do my best. Is there no beer?"

"Beer?"

"I'm dying of thirst here."

Shaking her head, she got up and fetched him a beer. "By the way," she said as she handed it to him, "You really need a shower."

Jack looked genuinely chagrinned. "Really? Okay."

She smiled at his sudden contrition.

Kerry gave up on work for the day, and after Jack had showered, they spent the afternoon in bed; talking, watching TV, other things. Not necessarily in that order. He would not say much about what had happened at the SGC the day before, but did not deny that the evacuation of the city was related to it, and so pretty much let on that the situation had been Earth-threatening, whatever it was. His lapse into boyish silliness, even in lovemaking, was further evidence to her that he had been in a truly perilous situation that he was now decompressing from.

Later, they ordered some take out for dinner and watched a romance movie, mostly because there was nothing else on; one of those artsy, depressing stories where the thwarted lover killed himself in the end.

"You had better not be crying," Jack warned as Kerry surreptitiously wiped the dampness from her eyes.

"Come on. How can you not be moved by that? He loved her so much he would rather die than be without her."

"That's not love."

"Oh?" This was going to be interesting.

"No. It's not like his death was a sacrifice. He killed himself because she couldn't make him happy. That's not love. It's infatuation at best. It's selfish."

"So wanting to spend your life with someone isn't love?"

He shook his head, his serious tone in contrast with his earlier silliness. "Love is not about how the other person makes you feel. Love is wanting what's best for the other person _regardless_ of how it makes you feel. It's putting their happiness before your own."

"Wow."

Jack looked at her askance.

"I mean…," Kerry added, not wanting him to think she was mocking his sentiment. "It's true, I guess. But it would be hard to live up to, don't you think? I mean especially if the other person didn't return your love in the same way."

Jack didn't answer. In fact it seemed that he was suddenly far away.

Kerry sat and studied him in his reverie, considering what he had said. For someone who didn't talk about feelings, he certainly had some deep thoughts on the subject of love. And it wasn't just talk, Kerry knew. Jack was a man of high ideals. Ideals he strove to live up to.

A few moments later, he started flipping channels with the remote. Apparently he had said all he was going to say on the subject. Kerry settled back against him, content to let him surf; It was a guy thing.


	10. Chapter 9

Many thanks to Charlie Blue for pointing out my faux pas, of course Sam was a Lt Colonel. This chapter was sooo hard to write, I missed that detail.

ooooo

Kerry left Monday morning to meet with her superiors in DC. She would be gone for a few days, and was to call Jack when she got back. Instead she surprised him by showing up at his office on Friday morning.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"They made my assignment permanent."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm even getting an office upstairs in NORAD."

"So much for working in your PJs."

"Yeah well, I guess that's the down side."

"Well, congratulations."

"Thanks. You want to help me celebrate later?"

"Sure. That sound's great. There's not much going on here today, so I should be able to leave at a reasonable time. You want me to take you out?"

She beamed at him. "That's sweet. But let's just stay in. Your place?"

He nodded.

"Okay. I gotta run."

He showed her to the door, closing it behind her. As he turned around, he spotted Carter standing in the conference room, watching through his office window.

Doh!

Okay Jack, play it cool. He gestured her in.

He knew what she wanted to talk about—Daniel's memorial. But he was sure Daniel was not gone for good. Absolutely positive. After they went back and forth on it, he got her to drop the subject by changing it.

Waving a form at her, he asked "So why am I giving Shannahan clearance to come on base?"

ooooo

Kerry stretched out on the king size bed, luxuriating in the space, but wishing there were a little less. They had eaten in, as she had suggested, and spent a relaxing evening together. But Jack had gotten a phone call at the crack of dawn, calling him to come into the base. "Trouble in Jaffa-land" he had quipped. He showered, dressed and headed out, telling her once again that she could stay.

"I'll call you."

Deja vu all over again. Kerry wondered if she should be gassing up her car.

This time Jack did call.

"Hey, where are you?"

"Your place."

"Still?"

"It's Saturday. I didn't have anything else planned. I'm enjoying your deck."

"Well, I think I'll join you. How about I pick up some steaks? We can grill out."

It was a beautiful late spring afternoon. Jack was out on the deck, cremating the steaks. Kerry had gone inside to bring out the sidedishes. He had acted offended when she asked about steak sauce, but said he had some in one of the cupboards. She couldn't find it.

She was coming back out to tell him so when she discovered that they had company.

Colonel Carter. Crap.

Kerry wasn't sure who was most discomfited; Colonel Carter was a white as a sheet, Jack was jabbering like an idiot, and for her part, Kerry just wanted to find a deep hole to climb into. Nevertheless she made her best effort to be gracious, but seemed things were just heading further south when they were all saved by the ringing of the colonel's cell phone. Unfortunately, it was bad news of some kind, something to do with the colonel's father, Jacob Carter. The Tok'ra, Kerry mused.

Kerry watched as Colonel Carter disappeared around the corner of the house, and then looked up at Jack. He met her glance briefly before setting down the BBQ tools and stalking into the house. Kerry paused to take the steaks off the grill, lost cause though they were, and followed him in.

He was standing in the middle of the living room on his cell phone. "Okay, let me know if there's any change. Thank you, doctor."

"Jack?"

"Jacob collapsed. He's conscious now, but they're not sure what's wrong."

"Okay."

"They'll let me know when they know anything."

"I heard."

She waited for him to say anything else, or to move. But he just stood there, his jaw set. Finally he let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "Crap."

"What's going on, Jack?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean why are you acting like a man who just got caught cheating?" She didn't realize it was true until she said it.

"What?"

Kerry had not known him long, but she knew Jack well enough to know when she hit a nerve, and she had just hit a big one.

"You're not this upset because Jacob Carter is sick."

He didn't reply.

"And when _she_ was here. I've never seen you flustered like that."

"I wasn't..."

"You were talking nonsense."

He didn't deny it. "It's just…I told you I didn't want anyone from the SGC to know about us."

"_Anyone_ from the SGC?"

Again he set his jaw but did not answer.

"Jack."

"Kerry. It's okay. It's not the end of the world….In fact, maybe this is better. No more sneaking around."

She nodded; her gut telling her that he was skirting the real issue. There was way more going on here than Jack's inclination for privacy.

"Do you need to go to the base?"

"I… no. There's no point. They'll let me know if his condition worsens."

Jack stayed. Physically. The evening wore on and he made a valiant effort not to appear distracted, but Kerry knew his head, and his heart, were at the SGC. They made love, and it was good, but seemed almost perfunctory.

He was up before sunrise. "I'm going in. Can you lock up?"

"Sure."

"Okay. I'll see you later?'

"I'll come by."

"Okay."

She got up as soon as he had left, and went out and sat on his deck, watching the sky turn from black to orange. The events of the prior afternoon replayed in her mind until they revealed their significance with crystal clarity.

The last of the stars blinked out with the new dawn. She recalled that he had promised to take her up on his roof to look at the stars through his telescope, but they had not yet gotten around to it. Not yet, not ever, she thought wistfully. Damn. It was silly, but she had become attached to this house in the short time she had known him. She would miss it. She walked through it one last time, seeing Jack's personality in its furnishings, looking at the photos that he wouldn't talk about. Then she gathered her things and let herself out the front door, locking it behind her.


	11. Epilogue

Author notes:

Okay, the story is over. We all know what happened next. The following epilogue was both difficult and precarious to write, because I delved deeper into Jack's psyche than Jack himself normally would. Jack is just not introspective. But maybe, at this crossroad, he would be a little.

Thank you to all reviewers, even the ones who are mad at me for not keeping Jack and Kerry together. I was not telling a new story; I was only filling in some details on a story already told. That said, Kerry is a great woman. She will land on her feet and go on to meet a great guy who doesn't have so many issues. She'll be fine, really. (And she got to sleep with Jack, so what's so bad about that?)

As for Jack, maybe he gets what he wants, or maybe not. I think he is ultimately a tragic figure. He doesn't believe he deserves to be happy, so maybe it is not possible for him to be. Does Sam deserve him? From Jack's perspective, she deserves better. Personally, I think she is a bit self-absorbed, which is what led to the whole Pete fiasco, but she is not irredeemable.

(By the way, prior to posting this, I went back and made at least minor changes to every chapter—to improve the overall flow and quality of the final product.)

oooooo

When Jack arrived at the base, he had the CMO report to him. He was stunned to learn that Jacob's condition was fatal—inevitably so, and would take him in the next few days. He had assumed Jake would outlive them all, thanks to the snake, but now, it seemed, it was the snake that was killing him.

"Goddamn Tokra," he breathed, once the doctor had left.

His chest tight, he left his office and went up to see Jacob. He found Carter there at Jacob's bedside, the two of them talking quietly. Jack decided he should not interrupt them. He would not know what to say anyway.

Instead he wandered the hallways for a bit, thinking. He realized now that this was not just about feeling for Carter's loss. This was his own loss as well. He thought of Jacob as a friend; a father figure even. He and Jacob had an affinity as career military men. Beyond that, Jack had come to genuinely respect the older man and for that reason found it extremely gratifying that Jacob, despite being very aware of Jack's many faults, liked him. He had told him so.

Eventually he made his way back to his office. He was there when Kerry came by.

ooooooo

As break-ups went, it was probably as amiable as he could have hoped for. Which was not to say it didn't hurt a little. Actually, it seemed like it hurt quite a bit; it was just hard to really assess the damage when it was just one more addition to the load of pain he was hauling around at the moment.

Oh, and it was one more item on the Things-to-Feel-Guilty-About list. Kerry had deserved better. In the whole convoluted, messed-up business, that was the one thing he was sure about.

She had seemed okay. He hoped she really was.

What he was not sure about, at all, was where this all left him. Was he back to where he was when this all started? Possibly, except…Carter said she was having second thoughts about the wedding. She was interrupted before she could explain why. Was it because of _him_? Did she want to be with _him_? But then what was the whole Shanahan thing about? You don't love one guy and get engaged to another. Even if you can't be with the guy you want.

But that line of thinking was a road he could not go down. He could not allow himself to be angry with her. She had never made any commitment to him; she didn't owe him a goddamn thing. She just wanted to be happy. He couldn't blame her for that. And if she couldn't see that happening with him, well, then she and Kerry had that in common.

The difference was; Kerry probably _could_ be happy with the right guy. Sam, Jack realized, was in a no-win situation. She wanted, or at least thought she wanted, a "normal" life, but that kind of life would never really make her happy; that possibility had left the station eight years ago when she signed on to the Stargate program. She just didn't see it.

Or maybe, finally, she did.

For the moment the only thing to do, was the only thing he could do. He would lock away his own hurt, like he always did. Then he would go and just be there for a friend who was losing her father. And if, somewhere down the road, she could come to terms with not ever having "normal," maybe she would be okay with having him instead.


End file.
